


An Aching Hand

by Farashe



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Holding Hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farashe/pseuds/Farashe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on tumblr for "holding hands cuteness". Ylleth is tired after a long day closing rifts in the Hinterlands. Solas notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Aching Hand

Ylleth plopped down in front of the campfire with a soft groan. Three rifts closed in one day. The third one had felt like she was trying to drag a boulder by tying a piece of twine around it and pulling. She had managed it though, somehow, and without passing out or screaming or anything. Ylleth supposed that was a victory, but she was too tired and her hand was too sore to think of it that way.

“Are you in pain?”

Ylleth looked up to see Solas looking back with concern. She glanced quickly away. Something about his gaze unsettled her, like he could see something that she couldn’t, and it fascinated him.

“Mostly just tired,” she replied looking at her hands folded in her lap. “My hand aches a little.”

He sat beside her and held out his own hand to her. She hesitantly placed her left hand in his. His palms were rough with callouses but his grip was gentle. He turned her hand so it was palm up and began tracing lines where the mark was even though it wasn’t currently visible. She watched the movement of his long fingers. It was hypnotic.

“It’s like a muscle,” he said.

“What?” she asked more sharply than she’d meant to. His voice had broken her reverie. She cleared her throat. “I meant to say, what do you mean?”

“When you first learned magic, there were some spells that exhausted you that now you cast with barely a thought, yes?”

She nodded.

He massaged her palm with his thumb. “This is the same. The mark, whatever it is, is like a new muscle. When you push it too hard, it will cause you pain. But as you continue to use it, it will become stronger.” He squeezed her hand gently and gave her a small smile before releasing her hand and getting up.

Ylleth watched him go then looked back at her hand. It felt cold now without his hand warming it. She massaged her palm with her right hand, mimicking his movements, but it didn’t provide the same relief. She frowned. Her eyes sought Solas again, but then she tore her gaze away, annoyed. She didn’t need the confusing apostate to make her hand feel better. She would get through this on her own. She got up and began helping Varric with the evening stew pot.

But when she curled up in her bedroll beneath the stars that night, she quietly admitted to herself that she really just wanted Solas to hold her hand again.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, it's been awhile since I wrote Solavellan. And I've never written them just being adorable; I usually go straight for the angst with these two. This was a fun change ^_^
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
